But this was better.
My dick became uncomfortable in my pants the harder it pressed against my jeans. The only thing my dick should be pressing against was a soft, wet pussy. The fantasy of sinking deep into her beautiful cunt aroused me to the point of insanity, so I ended the kiss and turned to the door. “Get in.”
She usually protested my commands, but this time, the lazy look in her eyes said it all. She didn’t want to argue anymore. She wanted to be on her back in my enormous bed, a real man giving her the best sex of her life. She gave me a final glance before she ducked her head and got inside. “Don’t make me regret this.”
I narrowed my eyes at the challenge. “Never.”
12
Siena
We stepped inside the door of his Tuscan estate, and Giovanni appeared out of the shadows to serve him. “Sir, I—”
“It can wait until tomorrow.” Cato ignored his most loyal servant and guided me to the staircase. The trip back to the house had been spent in quiet tension, his hand squeezing my thigh and his eyes staring deeply into mine. He didn’t kiss me, as if he was waiting for the right moment to drop his restraint.
Giovanni disappeared again, obeying Cato’s orders.
He unexpectedly scooped his arms underneath my body then lifted me to his chest. Like I weighed nothing and he could move a mountain, he carried me up the three flights of stairs to his bedroom on the top floor.
I circled my arms around his neck, and I stared at his handsome expression, the pretty color of his eyes and the way they contrasted against the hardness of his jaw. If any other man pulled a stunt like he did, I would kick him in the crotch and storm off. No man had the right to control my life, to sabotage my evening just because he didn’t like it. There were so many things I disliked about Cato—and his arrogance was at the top of the list. But he was the sexiest man on the planet, with those good looks and perfectly chiseled body. His power and wealth weren’t necessary to make him irresistible because he already was. If he weren’t so attractive and confident, this would be a million times harder. I could sleep with someone I disliked—if he were this beautiful.
He carried me into his bedroom without effort and then set me down on his enormous bed, the bed where he often had several women at once. Sweaty and kinky sex happened here on a nightly basis. The women were willing to do anything, dirty things I would never compromise on. So, would fucking me be enough? Or would he be finished with me in the morning? There was only one way to find out.
He kneeled on the floor in front of me and held my gaze as he slipped off each of my heels. He handled me delicately, his fingers gently rubbing against the softness of my skin. His blue eyes were focused on my face, like it was impossible to pull his gaze away for even a moment.
I liked seeing Cato beneath me, a strong man on his knees to assist me. When he wasn’t being an arrogant prick, he was a sexy gentleman. I studied him as he took his time with the straps before both my heels were off. Then I watched him press a kiss to the inside of my ankle.
I closed my eyes automatically, loving the way those soft lips felt against my skin.
He did the same to the other foot before he trailed kisses up my legs and to the inside of my knees. He kept going, moving higher and higher until he was between my thighs.
My breathing escalated, and I slowly lay back on the bed as he tilted me backward. My eyes closed for long periods of time as I waited for that mouth to reach the area that ached the most. Maybe I disliked Cato Marino, but there was no doubt I wanted him—bad.
He kept moving until his lips pressed against my black thong. He kissed me gently, my dress bunched up to my hips. He kissed me a little harder for the friction then took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of my arousal through my lacy thong.
He pulled back then raised his head level with mine, a look of arousal on his face so intense he seemed angry. He gripped my hips with his hands, and he stared at me without fear, as if he was struggling not to fuck me so hard he might break the bed.
I’d been the focus of a man’s desire before, but a man had never looked at me the way Cato did now. This was just sex, a conquest he was obsessed with completing, but it still made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. It was more fulfilling than making love to a man I cared about. It was more fulfilling than a booty call with a man who could make me come. I was prey to this man—and it was the first time I enjoyed feeling that way.